


The Roles They Were Born to Play

by vulcansrsassyqueens



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:20:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25745746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulcansrsassyqueens/pseuds/vulcansrsassyqueens
Summary: The crew of Enterprise is faced with an attack of personal and interspecies magnitudes. Two of the higher ranking crew members are faced with a challenge that was thought to be impossible.
Relationships: T'Pol/Charles "Trip" Tucker III
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	The Roles They Were Born to Play

**Author's Note:**

> This story is AU. It will take inspiration from events that occurred in episode mentioned, but they will have a different outcome and impact in the rest of the plot.
> 
> SPOILERS for the twentieth episode of the fourth season, “Demons,” and the twenty-first episode of the fourth season, “Terra Prime.”

The doctor paced around what he often found to be his sanctuary. He was lost in thought—perplexed truly—he wouldn’t be able to withstand seeing two people he now considered family go through such pain. He simply had to do something, he concluded. He was going to save that baby, if it was the last thing he ever did.

He had been so preoccupied that he had been unaware of the fast approaching feeding time of the creatures surrounding him. Soon, grunts of disapproval and shrill cries of hunger broke him out of his mental prison. He went around the room supplying the different species with their preferred diet. As he was doing so, a particularly interesting specimen caused him to stop in his tracks.

‘That,’ he thought, ‘that is what is needed.’

:::

‘Captains are meant to protect their crew.’

Floating through the mind of the captain of Enterprise was the mantra that he had sworn himself by. This ideology had seemingly failed and he couldn’t help but feel as though it was somehow his fault.

Though he knew he had to handle other tasks—including ensuring the dissolution of the very group who was behind this—he couldn’t fathom being in the shoes of his Sub-Commander and Commander. He found himself distracted, something that could prove dangerous if he didn’t find a way to compartmentalize his thoughts.

“Captain report to sickbay,” the doctor’s voice requested via the companel.

:::

The new parents had rarely left the side of the infant—only ever leaving when the doctor pushed for them to eat in the mess hall. 

When first joining the starfleet, the engineer had been so intrigued by the unknown. He had chosen to take part in a mission of discovery. He never feared it—he had felt the pain of interspecies attacks, however—until he was faced with a situation, he could have never imagined.

The science officer had tried the hardest to think logically. This child was created by an organization looking to prove a point and her and the young man beside her had fallen victim. The Vulcan found it increasingly more difficult to keep her emotions below the surface, reminding herself that the baby girl lying in the incubator beside her was not made from love, but from hatred—despite the obvious mutual feelings between the engineer and herself. Despite all the logic she used, she couldn’t picture a scenario where it wouldn’t hurt.

Despite the Denobulan’s insistence that the duo nourish themselves, they simply would walk to the mess hall, find a seat, and stare into eblivien, until enough time had passed that would be appropriate for consumption. They had lost their appetite, neither concerned about themselves, but for the other and their ailing daughter.

:::

“Phlox, you asked to speak to me?” the captain asked the doctor, once he reached sickbay.

He had found the alien staying within what seemed to be invisible barriers that he had created for himself. The doctor had been allowing the Vulcan and engineer the room, they so greatly needed in a time like this—a time of hope being overtaken by grief. 

The Denobulan tilted his head in signal for the captain to walk with him toward a corner of sickbay. In his hand he had a creature, which seemed as though it had gone through better days. 

Once they were in a more isolated part of the medical room, the doctor handed over the creature to the captain.

“I hope you didn’t call me down here to introduce me to this,” the captainpaused for a second, trying to find the right word to describe the specimen in his hand without potentially offending the doctor, “thing.”

“That thing, Captain Archer, may just be the key to that child’s survival.”

:::

The Lingustic Communications officer was at her station on the bridge. Her brain had stopped fuctioning for all accounts. She was struggling to decipher the difference between Klingon and Andorian words, something that was seemingly impossible. In all forms of the word, she was distracted. She couldn’t help the overwhelming need to comfort two people she had worked closely with for nearly four years.

Across from her, on the opposite side of the bridge, the lieutenant and weapons and tactical expert was dead set on revenge. It was almost a though he was feeling and reacting to the collective anger of those aboard the vessel, whilst the rest of the crew wallowed in pain—sympathy, save for two—and some basking in ignorance. 

In the center, the navigation and helm officer knew that the safety of the crew laid majorly in his hands. He tried to push out all thoughts about what the engineer and science officer were facing, but it was difficult due to his upbringing. Growing up in a cargo ship—a highly family oriented vessel—he was used to having personal connections to those you work with, but this seemed to be more than anyone could handle.


End file.
